


Are you sure?

by Ptolemia



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, but WE MUST PROTECT THE EYES OF THE INNOCENT, but both things are said A Lot, im not sure whether people say 'i love you' or 'bro' more times collectively in this fic, oh god so much fluff, rated teen for brief mentions of violence and the fact they r in bed like ok nothin happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4514760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Vaughn is worried, Rhys is a soppy git at heart, the relative merits of corrosive versus incendiary weapons are discussed, and I apparently write fic summaries like a Victorian novelist writes chapter titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you sure?

**Author's Note:**

> This is set prior to the events of the game in an au (OR IS IT AN AU LETS FACE IT THEY'RE BASICALLY DATING IN-GAME TBH) where they were dating before the game began.
> 
> FUN FACT FOR THE DAY: this isnt relevant to the fic but 'Are you sure' is also the title of a TRULY EXCELLENT Aretha Franklin song. it's nothing like this fic but u should go listen to it anyway because it's A Good Time tbh
> 
> also spellcheck keeps tellin me that 'somewhen' isnt a word but it damn well should be and if spellcheck has beef with that it can fiGHT ME

Rhys crawls into bed late - kept up once again by the glare of his computer screen and a vague idea that somehow, somewhen, if he keeps plugging hours into this thankless job there has to be something in it for him. A pay-rise, a promotion, a cushy executive office with a swivel chair he can spin around in when nobody's watching... At some point even Rhys has to concede that maybe this is a dream for another day and he reluctantly calls it a night, stumbling into the bedroom and rubbing his eyes blearily before curling up under the covers.

 

Vaughn makes remarkably little objection to the disturbance, allowing Rhys to manhandle him into a cuddle with only a vague sleep-dazed grumble of "'s late."

Rhys sighs. "Yeah, I'm sorry man, I just had a few things to look over, and then a couple other things came up, and then I get an email about this huge fire in one of the mines and loads of the Pandoran convicts we had working on it are dead which, like, ruins my budgeting so I had to start again on that - oh, and Yvette is still awake and wants to know what we're doing food-wise next Sunday and... well, you know how it is."

Vaughn says nothing.

"I mean, work, right?" says Rhys, with a world-weary chuckle that has been honed to stone-cold perfection by years of awful office parties and forced conversation with Vasquez over mediocre wine and cheese.

Vaughn makes a vague sleepy snuffling noise.

"Uh, I didn't wake you up, did I?" asks Rhys, suddenly aware of exactly how late it is, and how long ago Vaughn turned in for the night.

"Doesn't matter," Vaughn mumbles.

"No, it - bro, of course it matters! Urgh, now I feel horrible. I'll be quieter next time."

"Rhys, it's fine. Go to sleep."

"Yeah. Right. Yeah I should probably stop talking now and... keeping you awake... Uh. Sorry."

Vaughn, eyes closed, curled up against Rhys' chest, says nothing.

Rhys kisses his forehead. "Night bro. I love you."

 

Vaughn stays quiet, and Rhys hopes that that's because he's asleep and not because he's mad about being kept awake. Either way, Rhys figures he should probably do something nice to make up for it, especially given that it's not exactly the first time this has happened. Somehow a lot of important stuff ends up blurring into the background when he's busy working, and in the pit of his stomach there's a vague nagging guilt about all the times he's been up late and out early and missed movie nights and dates and who knows what else. Of course, once he's made it big and he's rich as sin he'll never have to work another day in his life and he can make it up to Vaughn then. And he'll be able to buy him whatever weird nerd stuff his weird nerd heart desires, like that clunky Atlas watch and the expensive gun he'd mentioned that one time. Although the second one might be a bad idea because Rhys is pretty sure the only really big argument he's ever seen Vaughn and Yvette have was about that gun. Vaughn had mentioned it and Yvette made a huge fuss about the branding because she... really liked Maliwan snipers? Maliwan submachine guns? Or maybe it was her who liked Dahl and Vaughn liked some other brand or something. Either way, Rhys had got hopelessly lost in confusion over the nature of the argument almost immediately, and after about half an hour (by which point the whole cafeteria was staring because Yvette had climbed most of the way over the table in her fury and was jabbing Vaughn in the chest with a celery stick chanting "Incendiary! Weapons! Are! The! Shit!" over and over again while Vaughn attempted to fend her off with a carrot and snapped "Corrosive!" back at her every time she spoke) he interjected to say that, personally, he wasn't all that fussed about weapons in any sense other than as stock to be manufactured and sold. In which capacity, he'd said, with a self-important little smirk because he was suddenly aware that the whole cafeteria was watching this exchange, he supposed you could say he was very interested in guns, because he loved his job. Loved it! And in any case, surely Hyperion must be producing the best weapons? Why argue about these other inferior brands when they worked for the best weapons manufacturer in the universe? Vaughn and Yvette had looked at him with identical expressions of total shock, and neither of them spoke to him for almost two days after that.

 

Rhys smiles at the memory despite himself. He still doesn't quite get the whole thing about guns, even though Vaughn and Yvette have both tried to explain it to him on several occasions, but there's something very endearing about the way Vaughn's eyes light up when he's talking about something that matters to him. Rhys has listened to a hell of a lot of very long, very excited rambles about the finer details of accounting practise without taking anything in other than the way Vaughn waves his hands when he's happy, or the way his normally hunched shoulders straighten up as he raises his voice in excitement. So even if guns still remain mostly uninteresting to him, he'll gladly put up with any number of mind-numbingly dull rants about weapon specs just to see Vaughn smile.

 

He's so wrapped up in the image of Vaughn in his head that it takes a moment for him to register that the real Vaughn in front of him has asked him a question.

"Oh," says Rhys, glancing at Vaughn - who now looks considerably more awake and for some reason slightly concerned - "sorry, I thought you were asleep - what did you say?"

"I said are you sure?"

"About what?"

Vaughn sighs, rolling over and plumping his pillow. "Well, I mean, you were there doing your whole 'I love you, goodnight' thing and I just... I... are you sure? About that and about, uh, about us, I guess?”

Rhys chuckles, “Having second thoughts?” After a moment the implication of Vaughn's question sinks in, and Rhys blurts a panicked, “Wait, shit, you're _not_ having second thoughts, are you?”

“No! No, I'm- I was asking if you were.”

“Yeah, but why are you asking? That's kind of a big thing to land on me at two in the morning if there's not a good reason behind it.”

Vaughn sighs. “Oh, come on. You know why.”

Rhys searches his mind frantically, but comes up blank. “Uh... no I don't.”

“Rhys. Seriously.”

“Dude, stop looking at me like that! I don't know what this is about. Pinky promise.”

Rhys offers his pinky, and Vaughn shakes it - and then utters a bemused, “You actually don't know what I'm getting at here?”

“No?”

“Huh. You must be the only person on Helios not to know, then. You realise everyone thinks it's weird that you're dating me? We're the subject of,” he wrinkles his nose disdainfully, “ _gossip_.”

“Wait, what?”

“Rhys, I swear, if you're playing dumb with me...”

“I pinky promised, dude!”

“That's... yeah, I guess you did.” Vaughn sighs again, rubbing his temples and frowning slightly. “It's just that it's sorta obvious what I see in you, what with you being stupidly good-looking and-”

“Oh, so you only want me for my - admittedly pretty sweet - body, huh?” smirks Rhys, trying to inject some humour into the conversation, which seems to have got very serious very quickly.

“No!” says Vaughn, “No, of course not, I was going to say about you being clever and funny and-”

Rhys kisses him before he can continue. “Dude, relax. I'm joking. I love you.”

 

A little smile flutters over Vaughn's lips for a moment. “I love _you_ ,” he says, and then the smile is gone and he's back to fidgeting with the sheets, staring down at his hands and biting his lip. “Which is sort of the problem, I guess. Or, well, not a problem exactly but it just worries me because I- well I- I-” he clears his throat awkwardly, and it's too dark for Rhys to tell if he's blushing but he sounds flustered like he does when the tips of his ears are going pink.

Rhys strokes his cheek, wishing that he could make whatever it is that's upsetting Vaughn just disappear, but also increasingly concerned that what's upsetting Vaughn might, in fact, be Rhys himself. “I'm listening, bro,” he says, “You can tell me.”

“Well, I like you a lot and I can't work out what the hell you even see in me and sometimes I worry that you feel like you have to act as if you like me back because we're friends or because you feel sorry for me or because you're too nice to tell me that you don't want to do this any more or...” He shrugs. “I mean, it's not as though you don't have better offers! Toby from HR definitely likes you, and that guy in the bar last week was flirting with you and he was actually really cute and I'm just... I'm an accountant. You know? And I'm awkward and sort of shy and... I just worry. You don't have to say stuff if you don't mean it, you know that, right?”

Rhys makes a very quiet and hugely undignified screeching noise in the back of his throat.

Vaughn blinks at him. “Are you alright?”

Rhys wheezes slightly with sheer disbelief. “You- you think I- oh my god, Vaughn, no, you-” he tugs Vaughn closer, wrapping his arms around him and trying to convey through sheer force of contact how totally _wrong_ Vaughn is. It's a moment before he can collect himself enough to speak again. “I like you, bro, of course I do I love – you – so – much,” he says, punctuating the last few words with kisses.

“But why do you love-” begins Vaughn, only to be cut off by another kiss.

“Because I do,” says Rhys, emphatically.

Vaughn looks as though he might have something to say to that, but then Rhys is kissing his way along his jawline and onto his neck and he ends up giggling instead. “Argh, Rhys, quit it, that tickles.”

Rhys leans back for half a second, and smirks. Then he brushes his lips right along the sensitive spot beneath Vaughn's ear, and Vaughn squirms, still giggling and slightly breathless.

“I mean it,” he laughs, “Rhys, stop, that tickles so bad. Rhys!”

Rhys does it again.

“Idiot,” grumbles Vaughn, but he's still smiling.

 

Rhys grins back, immeasurably glad to see that the worry and the doubt seems to have receded from Vaughn's eyes. “I mean it, though,” he says, cupping Vaughn's face in his hands. “I love you.”

“And you show it by... tickling me?”

“What can I say? I'm an asshole.”

“You _are_ an asshole.”

Rhys shrugs modestly. “Well, I try my best.”

Vaughn laughs again, and Rhys thinks it's the nicest sound he's ever heard.

“But seriously, Vaughn, I love you.”

“Yeah?”

“So much. Like, a lot.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Like... to the moon and back.”

“That's really not that far,” says Vaughn, rather primly.

“Yeah, well, I didn't say which moon.”

“Alright, which one?”

Rhys hesitates for a moment. “Uh, one that's really far away.”

Vaughn raises an eyebrow.

“ _Super_ far away,” says Rhys.

“Yeah? Well I love you to a moon that's even further away and back.”

“Show-off,” snorts Rhys.

 

They lie there for a moment, noses touching, smiling gently. Then Rhys squeezes Vaughn's hand. “I do, though. I love you,” he says, softly. “You know that, right?”

Vaughn looks at him for a long moment. “I... yeah. I do. Right now I do. But I might... you might have to remind me, sometimes.”

Rhys brushes his nose against Vaughns. “I will,” he murmurs, and for a split second he holds Vaughn's gaze with total sincerity – then he grins, and adds, “I'm gonna remind you of it all the time. It's going to be obnoxious.”

“You reckon?”

“Yup. Just, like, all the time. I'm gonna be there, getting in the way, reminding you I love you when you're busy trying to work, or you need to eat quickly because you're lunch break's almost over, or you're trying to watch tv... obnoxious. Totally obnoxious.”

“Sounds like you,” says Vaughn. Then he leans in and gives Rhys a kiss. “It's late, bro.”

Rhys looks at the clock and winces. “I have to be up in about four hours. Urgh.”

“You should sleep.”

“So should you. I can't believe I kept you up all this time. I'm sorry.”

“What? No, come on, I kept _you_ up,” says Vaughn.

They look at each other for a moment, and they're both on the brink of breaking out into giggles, but it's Vaughn who eventually snorts out the inevitable, “That's what she said.”

Rhys pokes his chest affectionately. “Go to sleep.”

“Oh, come on, you were thinking it too.”

“Sleep!” says Rhys.

Vaughn yawns, and tugs the covers up to his shoulders. “Yeah. 'Night bro. I love you.”

“I love you too,” says Rhys. “'Night.”

 

Silence falls, and after ten minutes or so Vaughn begins to snore quietly.

Rhys nudges him. “Hey.”

Vaughn groans. “What?”

“Were you asleep?”

“Yes!”

Rhys grins. “I love you.”

 

Vaughn throws a pillow at him.

 


End file.
